The Illusion of Freedom

Chapter 2

Nora followed Lucien through the winding paths behind the main tent, the soft hum of the fading crowd echoing in the distance. The show was over, but patrons still lingered, their laughter and conversation drifting on the cool night air. Backstage, it was quieter—almost unnervingly so, as if the circus itself exhaled with the end of the performance. The flickering lights that had danced with energy now cast long, shifting shadows over the trailers, their warmth dimming as the night deepened.

Lucien moved with graceful ease, his long coat trailing behind him, but something about the air made Nora's skin prickle. The performers who had dazzled her moments ago seemed different now, their vibrant personas stripped away like costumes. The magic that had filled the tent felt weaker here, as though the pulse of the circus had slowed.

"We usually have a quiet meal after the show," Lucien said, glancing over his shoulder at her. His tone was casual, but his eyes still held that unreadable intensity. "A chance to unwind."

They approached a small group seated around a long table. Della, the trapeze artist, was there, her sparkling costume replaced by a simple cloak, her loose hair slightly disheveled. Nora recognized a few others from the show: Magnus, the strongman, sat across from Della, silent and brooding; Ravi, the fire-breather, poked at the fire with a stick, sending sparks into the air. Zoya, the illusionist, was the first to notice Nora. She looked up, her sharp eyes studying Nora for a moment before flashing a quick smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Everyone, this is Nora," Lucien announced, gesturing toward her. "She'll be joining us for the evening."

Nora nodded, offering a small smile in return, though a tension lingered in her chest. Despite their outward warmth, there was something guarded in the performers' eyes, as though they carried secrets too heavy to share.

"Come, sit," Lucien said, pulling out a chair for her. "You must be starving."

Nora sat, her gaze flickering from one performer to the next. The atmosphere felt... off. Though the air had been warm just moments ago, the temperature seemed to drop, a chill creeping into her bones. She shivered, but no one else seemed to notice. As she adjusted in her seat, something near the trailers caught her eye—a child, standing motionless, staring at the group. Nora squinted, her breath catching. From this distance, the child's eyes appeared dark, almost like black pools.

Just as Nora opened her mouth to ask about the child, the circus's chef arrived with a pot of stew and fresh bread. There was a brief commotion as the food was served, and by the time Nora glanced back, the girl was gone.

"She belongs with us," Lucien said quietly, his eyes fixed on the spot where the child had stood. His tone was strange—melancholic, tinged with something unspoken. Nora couldn't help but wonder: was the girl his daughter? What had happened between them? Before she could ask, Lucien straightened, his face shifting back into a warm smile. "Now, eat. You must be hungry."

Nora busied herself with the food, her appetite catching up with her. Across the table, Della watched her closely, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Nora," Della said cheerfully, "tell us about yourself! What brings you to our show?"

Nora swallowed a bite of bread. "I'm not entirely sure. I left home a couple of weeks ago, just trying to find my place in the world."

Lucien's gaze sharpened, though his smile remained. "We're glad you found us," he said, sounding sincere.

"How long have you been doing this show?" Nora asked.

Magnus grunted, shaking his head. Nora waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn't, Della spoke up instead.

"It's been a long time. At least a lifetime, it feels," she said, gazing up at the sky. As Nora watched, it almost seemed like Della floated a few inches off her chair, her feet just barely hovering above the ground.

Nora couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strange about this circus. It felt magical, but not in a way that brought comfort. It was more like a puzzle she couldn't quite solve—something alluring yet deeply unsettling.

"I formed the circus in my teens," Lucien said, cutting through Nora's thoughts. Della continued staring upward, lost in her own world. The other performers didn't seem particularly interested in Lucien's story, but Nora brushed it off—they had probably heard it countless times before.

"As a kid, I was always learning tricks. Card tricks, sleight of hand. Once, I even tried to convince my mother to let me cut her in half," Lucien chuckled. Nora laughed too, but none of the others reacted. She quickly quieted, feeling a little out of place.

"The Midnight Circus was born out of my desire to make people smile," Lucien continued. "I sought out my team, and we've been together ever since. We're a family."

A warmth spread through Nora at the word family. That's what she had been missing since her father died. "I miss having family," she said softly. "My father passed away six years ago. He was my best friend. He believed in me, even when no one else did. I've felt lost since then."

Della reached across the table and patted Nora's arm, giving her a sympathetic smile. Zoya, however, rolled her eyes and pushed her stew away, standing abruptly.

Without a word, she left the table.

"Don't worry about her," Della said quickly. "She's protective. It just... comes out wrong sometimes."

Nora nodded but felt unsettled. She glanced at Lucien, who was watching Zoya leave, a deep frown on his face. He didn't move to follow her, only sighed and turned back to Nora.

"I think it's time we all turn in," Lucien said, his tone softening. "You've had a long day. Would you like to stay the night with us? You must be exhausted."

"Oh, no, I couldn't. You've already been so kind," Nora began.

"Don't be silly!" Della interrupted, her voice bright. "You can sleep on the sofa in my trailer." She clapped her hands, a huge grin spreading across her face. She floated even higher above her chair as she spoke.

Nora glanced at Lucien. He smiled and nodded.

"Alright then," Nora said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What could one night hurt?"